A Princess in His Eyes
by KentuckyWallflower
Summary: Pre-series. When Iris's Homecoming Dance isn't the dream she had imagine and her date isn't the prince she thought he would be, she turns to her best friend Barry for comfort. Lots and lots of cute young West-Allen fluff you guys! R&R!


**A/N: In a previous story that I wrote, I made reference to a moment between Barry and Iris in their teenaged years. I unknowingly wrote what would inspire this story, which is ultimately just a bunch of young WestAllen fluffy goodness. (The quote which inspired this story is written below.)**

 **...**

 _ **'''You look like a princess tonight, Iris.'' He had told her then. "And no princess should be left to dance alone at her ball."**_

 _ **And as she looked into her prince's dazzling blue-green eyes that night as they danced, she knew that she loved him and always would.''' -**_ **From the story,** _ **If You Die, I'm gonna kill you**_

… _ **...**_

"Okay Bar, honest opinion. What do you think?" Iris asked pulling the curtain back and stepping out of the dressing room.

"Uh, are you sure you want my _honest_ opinion on this one Iris?"

"That bad?" The girl asked looking down at herself.

"You look like that girl on Willy Wonka who turned into a blueberry." Barry said. He was biting his lip in an effort not to laugh.

"Aww! I look like a human blueberry? Really?" The girl questioned, a slight smile appearing on her face. Barry finally burst into laughter, as if her smile was an invitation. "I mean, this dress wasn't my first pick either, but a blueberry?"

Her friend continued to laugh as he managed a nod, Iris rushing back into the changing room and pulling the curtain shut to change. The sounds of her laughter could still be heard on the other side. The friends had gone out shopping for their homecoming dance. Barry only needed a new suit and dress shoes—maybe a nicer tie if he could afford one. Iris needed a new everything for the dance, from the dress to the shoes, the jewelry to the hair and makeup—it all had to be perfect. She had insisted that he sit with her and give his opinion as she tried on all of her dresses, and there were _a lot_ of dresses. Most guys would complain about the activity, they would think that it was a waste of time, but not Barry. To him, every moment he got to spend with Iris West was a precious moment.

He hadn't been exactly thrilled when he heard that she was going to the dance with Andrew Waltzinger. But he knew how much Iris liked Andrew, she'd been talking about how cute she thought he was since the eighth grade when he first moved to Central City. Barry loved Iris, he'd loved her since before he even knew what the word meant. And for those reasons he had pretended to be happy for her when she told him that Andrew had asked her to be his date a few days earlier. He saw how happy she was, and her to be happy was all he wanted for her—he couldn't ruin her joy.

The curtain whooshed open again and Iris reappeared in the changing room doorway. This time she wore a beautiful, loose, pale pink dress with a sweetheart neck line. The silver faux-jewel studded straps covering only the top of her shoulders, a matching belt of silver faux-jewels just below her chest. She looked stunning.

"Well?" She asked him hopefully, excitement clear in her voice.

Barry gave her a soft smile, dumbfounded by her beauty. "That's the one." He told her, and her grin widened as she went back into the changing room to put her street cloths back on.

…...

When the day of the homecoming dance came, Iris had woken him up around ten in the morning using the blow-dryer and talking on the phone with somebody.

"What the—" he began, "Iris, what are you doing?"

"One second Andrew." He heard her say into the phone before opening the door. "I'm getting ready for the dance." She told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's ten o'clock in the morning." He responded simply. Her hair was still damp and she wore only a towel wrapping tightly around her body, the house phone pressed against her chest so they could speak privately.

"I know. But it's _homecoming_ Bar." She said excitedly.

"But the dance doesn't start until seven."

"But we have dinner reservations at five, remember? Also, we're meeting Andrew and his family in the park at three-thirty for pictures. And you _know_ my dad's going to want picture of just the two of us first. I have to make sure I'm ready in time." She explained.

"Right." Barry said slowly, dragging out the "i" in the word. "But if you're going to be in the bathroom all day, could I at least go to the bathroom first?"

She laughed as she opened the door wider and stepped out to allow him his privacy. As he closed the door behind him he heard her voice as she returned to her call.

"Sorry." She was saying through her giggles, "That was Barry wanting to use the bathroom. I've been monopolizing it all morning."

By the time that he was done Iris had finished her conversation with her homecoming date and was leaning against the wall in the hallway across from the bathroom door waiting to get back in. "Took you long enough." She tease, a smirk on her face.

"So says the person who's been in there since what time this morning?"

"Since nine." She said calmly.

"You've been in there since nine and you're still not ready?" Barry asked in disbelief.

"I was taking a shower. I have more hair than you do and washing it takes longer."

Laughing he shook his head and went down stairs to get some breakfast while his best friend returned to monopolizing their bathroom.

...

When Joe came home from work a little before two in the afternoon Barry had asked him why girls went through so much trouble getting ready for these dances. It didn't make sense to him. All he was planning to do to get ready was take a quick shower, brush his teeth and comb his hair, then put his suit on. He figured he need twenty minutes, half an hour tops.

"I always figured they were trying to impress us." His adoptive father had told him. "Your guess is as good as mine kid."

Barry had laughed, agreeing with Joe by nodding. A little after two thirty he came to the conclusion that Joe's assumption was right. If he'd been dumbfounded by the sight of her in the dress that day at the mall, he must be in utter shock now.

The first thing he noticed as she descended the stairs was her shoes—pale pink stilettoes with a strap around the ankle. Then he saw her dress, the way it fit loosely over her body while still managing to highlight her curves. She wore a simple silver chain with a small teardrop shaped pearl pedant that he knew had once been her mothers around her neck. Iris's lips had been painted a soft pink, her long lashes embellished by the black mascara, eyeliner, and shimmering neutral eyeshadow. The girls hair had been done in loose curls and swept back in a tight ponytail at the base of her neck, leaving a few loose stands to frame her face. Barry was sure that his heart had skipped a beat as she descended into the living room.

"Wow." He whispered under his breath as she reached the last stair.

"You look beautiful baby girl." Joe told her as he placed a gentle kiss on her head, and if Barry hadn't been so focused on Iris he would have seen the tears that formed in his adoptive fathers eyes.

"Thanks Dad." She said and looked towards her friend. "What do you think Bar?"

"Wow." He said again, louder this time for her to hear.

"That's a good wow right?" She asked with a laugh. Barry nodded dumbly in response as Joe laughed at his son's doe-eyed look.

"Okay you two. Stand together for a picture." The father instructed.

Swallowing hard and shaking himself from his stupor, the younger boy complied and walked to stand by Iris in front of the stairs. She snaked her arm around his waist and he draped his over her shoulders, both of them grinning for the camera as Joe clicked the shutter button. Their father kept taking pictures of them for the next several minutes, the teenagers only willing to take a few serious photos and insisting upon making silly faces for the rest of them.

…...

The group pictures had gone in a similar way as the ones they had taken at the house before leaving, and the dinner had been relatively uneventful—both events found Barry off to the side feeling a great deal like a third wheel. And for the entirety of the first half of the dance he had isolated himself at the snack table, sipping on punch and nibbling on the chips. He hated dances. The only reason why he had come tonight was because Iris had convinced him it would be fun and a good way to make some new friends. He knew neither of those things would prove to be true when he agreed to go, but Iris had asked him to so naturally he said yes. And so, there Barry sat, by the snack table holding up the gym wall. It was about an hour and twenty minutes into the dance and he had decided that he was bored. The teen boy had made up his mind to leave and was looking for Iris and Andrew to tell her that he'd see her at home in a few hours. It was Andrew he found first, and the girl with him was not Iris.

Huddled in a dark coroner of the gym stood Iris's date, his arms holding the slender body of Angela Shaw firmly against him as they kissed. As furious as he was that Andrew could do that to his best friend, and as much as he wanted to punch the guy for hurting her, his desire to find and comfort Iris was stronger. It didn't take Barry long to locate her. Across the gym in the bleachers he could see the most beautiful girl in the world hugging her knees to her chest and crying. Without giving it another thought he began moving across the dance floor—one of the perks of being so thin was that he could squeeze by the dancers with ease—to where Iris sat crying with the intent of putting a smile back on her beautiful face.

...

Andrew Waltzinger was an ass, Iris had decided. What kind of guy asked a girl to go with him for homecoming if he didn't really want to be there with her? She had been looking forward to this stupid dance for weeks and now it was ruined all because of stupid Andrew Waltzinger. What did she ever even see in him to begin with? She watched him with Angela Shaw as they kissed across the room—if you could call it that. It looked as if they were trying to actually devour each other, and she didn't fail to notice that Andrew was groping at the girls breast. She finally looked away in disgust, unable watch the pig that was meant to be her date any long. That's when she noticed her best friend making his way through the crowd and walking towards her.

When he reached her he didn't say a word, and she was grateful for that. Barry simply held out his hand for her to take, offering her a small, sad, knowing smile. Iris did her best to return his smile as she took his hand, but she was so heartbroken and disappointed that her smile was rather weak. He helped her to stand up before letting her hand fall again. Carefully, the young man in front of her reached both of his hands up to cup her face and used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears away from her eyes.

"Come on." He said softly, releasing her face and taking her hand again before leading her towards the dance floor.

"What are you doing Bar?" She asked, allowing him to lead her through the crowd on the dance floor—he was tall and slender, so bobbing and weaving through the other students was an easy task for him.

When they reached the center of the makeshift dance floor that was their school gym he stopped and turned to face her. "What are you doing Bar?" Iris repeated.

"You look like a princess tonight, Iris.'' he told her, gently placing a hand on her waist while guiding her hand that he held to his shoulder. "And no princess should be left to dance alone at her ball."

It was only now that she realized the song that had begun to play when he had first offered her his hand, _God Bless the Broken Road_ by Rascal Flats. She let out a soft laugh through her tears and placed her other hand on his shoulder, Barry did the same, placing his other hand on her waist. As the music played she began to sway with her best friend and he gave her a small awkward smile.

"Sorry, I'm not really that great of a dancer." He laughed.

"It's okay." She laughed too. "You're doing just fine swaying."

After a moment without talking, Iris spoke again. "Andrew's such an ass."

He nodded his head in understanding. "Yea, I saw that." He tilted his head in the general direction of where her date stood groping Angela. "I wasn't gonna say anything though."

"And I appreciate that, Bar." Iris took a breath and continued. "You know, he said the only reason he asked me was to make her jealous?"

"Yea." Barry agreed. "Andrew's an ass."

He heard her laugh again, and after another moment of dancing in silence he spoke again. "I'm sorry your night didn't turn out so perfect."

"Its not your fault."

"But I know how much you were looking forward to it. And, you really do look like a princess tonight. You deserved better than this." He told her.

He was looking her strait in the eyes, and she could see the sincerity he held with in his own. Iris could have sworn in that moment that he looked as if he was about to cry, just because he knew she was hurting. And she was hurting, hurting immensely, but somehow as she looked into her best friends eyes she felt it all start to slip away as if it didn't matter anymore. It was almost like it was just the two of them.

"Somehow," she began, "I think it'll be okay. And I'm sorry I ruined your night with my botched date problems."

"There's nothing to be sorry for Iris."

"Yes, there is Bar. I mean, its not like comforting your sobbing mess of a best friend was on your wish list for tonight." She said.

Iris was still looking at his eyes, for some reason she was finding it hard to pull away from his gaze tonight—as if she was hypnotized. They really were beautiful, blue-green—like the sea, she realized—with little flecks of gold. How had she never noticed how beautiful they were before?

"Actually," he smiled, "I think that dancing with you right now has been the highlight of my night."

She felt her heart beat pounding in her chest. She was getting nervous. Why was she getting nervous? This was Barry, her Barry. And maybe that was it, he was _her Barry._ That was another thing she had never realized before, and she wasn't entirely sure why.

"Seriously?" She laughed in surprise—surprise from both his words and her own realization.

"Yea. I mean, I didn't even want to come tonight. I really only came because you asked me to."

Iris found her gaze drifting to his mouth as he spoke, as his lips curved into a small and nervous smile. She quickly flicked her eyes back up to his as he finished and it was her turn to talk again.

"You did? Why?"

"Because," Barry said simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I knew it would make you happy. I'd do anything to make you happy Iris."

She smiled at her best friend—her best friend who she was beginning realize she wanted to be more. Iris found herself leaning in closer to him, wanting to press her lips to his so that he knew exactly what she was feeling. Her head was now leaning against his, and she was about to kiss him when the song changed to play a more upbeat tune and, for some reason, she pulled back.

"Well, uh, thank you. For the dance, and for cheering me up. I don't know what I would do without you in my life Bar." She told him quickly—nervously—as she tried to shake herself from her Barry Allen induced daze.

"Anytime." He told her with a smile.

 _''His smile is beautiful too,''_ Iris thought.

"Hey Barry, do you know what I just realized?" She asked, returning his smile.

"What?"

"Well, you said that I looked like a princess tonight, right?"

"Yea." Barry responded. "You do."

She nodded, still smiling at him. "Its just, the princess always dances with the prince at the balls. So, if I'm a princess tonight, I think that would make you my prince."

"I guess it does."

His smile widened even more at her words, making her heart flutter. And as she looked into her prince's dazzling blue-green eyes that night, she knew that she loved him and always would.

...

Barry had thought that Iris was going to kiss him. She had leaned in so close to him, pressed her head against his, and for the second time that day he imagined that his heart had skipped a beat. But then the song changed and she pulled back. He tried his best not to look as disappointed as he felt, which proved to be an incredibly difficult task. He had wanted to kiss her for years but he could never work up the courage, and for a moment he was actually entertaining the idea of cupping her face in his hands and kissing her anyway. But he couldn't do that, if she wanted to kiss him she would have wouldn't she? It had been an emotional night for her, she'd probably just gotten caught up in all of her emotions and he just happened to be the guy standing there.

That was when she said something that gave him hope. She told him that he was her prince, and the way she smiled at him—it made him think that maybe he did have a chance with her after all. She might not be ready yet, but someday, he may have a chance. Barry and Iris spent the rest of the night together, dancing non stop. The pair of friends danced to both the slow dances as well as the faster ones. When the dance ended Andrew finally caught up with them again, Angela at his side.

"You guys ready to go?" Iris's runaway date asked in a friendly voice. As if he was ever going to be their friend after what he did to her.

Barry opened his mouth, about to tell him off, but Iris cut in. "Its alright Bar, I've got this." She whispered to him before turning her attention to Andrew.

"You know what? Thanks for the offer, but I seem to have realized that I'm not interested in lying, manipulative, jack ass's. So, no thanks. I think Barry and I would rather walk, but you go a head and take Angela home. I'd hate to be the reason you two had to stop attempting to eat each others faces off. Have a nice night Andrew, I hope she was worth it."

Taking Barry's hand in hers, Iris spun around and lead him towards the exit door.

"Way to go Iris." He laughed.

"Thanks." She said. "Sorry to make you walk, Bar."

"I'm happy to walk with you." Her friend told her. "Plus, that was seriously awesome."

She laughed too. "It was kind of awesome, hu?"

"It really was." He laughed with her.

About half way home they had to stop so that Iris could take her shoes off because the heels were rubbing blisters on her feet. Barry offered to carry her—repeatedly for the rest of the walk home—but she diligently refused each time. Once they got home both of them quickly changed into their pajamas before returning down stairs. Barry popped the popcorn while Iris chose the movie, she had a rough night so he let her pick even if it was suppose to be his turn. Neither of them spent much time watching the movie though, they just ate the popcorn, drake soda, and talked until they both fell asleep.

…...

It was ten past twelve when Joe came home from work that night. When he opened the door and stepped into his house he saw that the TV was still on. Entering the living room he found both of his kids sound asleep on the couch, Iris cuddled into Barry's side with her head laying on his shoulder. Laughing to himself the father turned the TV off before heading up stairs for bed, knowing full well that if Barry had been awake to see Iris sleeping against him right now his face would be blushing a lovely shade of crimson red.

...

 **A/N: That was my young West-Allen fluff story! I really hope you guys like it. The next story I post will be a request from Lex-no-Luther. I'm really excited to write this one. Its something totally different than anything I've written before, so it'll be a challenge, but I think It'll be a lot of fun to write. R &R! **


End file.
